


So Your Professor owns a Cerberus

by Vespairty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Badasses, Cats are pretty great too, Could not get anything else done before getting this out of my head, First Kisses, First Love, Growth of the self, Learning Sexuality, Let's Learn!, M/M, Oc's are backup characters to move plot, Second kisses, Strong Male Badasses, Strong female Badasses, Triggers, War, With the right person, coming to terms, dark themes, dogs are good bois, the five stages of grief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vespairty/pseuds/Vespairty
Summary: The year was odd. War was gearing up on the continent and more than that he was looking forward to a year figuring out his heritage. He did not expect his new Defense professor to be a legendary auror. He also wasn't expecting to find anyone who understood him. Life just got brighter and he isn't sure what is stranger. The events that led Hadrian to them, or the events he sets into motion. One thing is certain, this is much more important than a chamber of secrets.





	So Your Professor owns a Cerberus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkkBluee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkkBluee/gifts), [CKRiddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKRiddle/gifts), [Helily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helily/gifts), [Ares00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ares00/gifts), [Ivy_C](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_C/gifts), [Littlenk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlenk/gifts), [Wolven_Spirits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/gifts).



> Updates on this may be sporatic. I have been dealing with much lately but I had to get this out of my head. Then it just... took off from there. So... I'll give it my best effort.

Merrythought had retired. He doubted anyone else suspected but he knew. The syllabus was different, the book was the same even if there was an absence of the professor's name. The fifth year materials the same however were also considered 'optional'. He had gotten them anyways as he wasn't sure what the term optional was in this case. The small unknowns set his teeth on edge. His suspicion was proven later to be right when at the start of year feast their wayward professor was absent. Instead, an empty chair sat mournfully at the head table. He doubted a majority of students caught it, Merrythought was getting old and he had learned that common sense wasn't common years ago. Still, this was inconvenient. He had planned to try and seize the position upon graduation. He had thought the old bat had some years in her. It was very inconvenient. 

He would have to start his facade with a new person all over again. He could do it, but the time and charm required could be trying. He doubted there was much this new professor could offer that he had not learned. He knew the course materials for each year by heart, so what else would he need? That had been the train of thought he had when he arrived early for their first lesson on Defense Against the Dark Arts in the fifth year of his Hogwarts career. He arrived as he was wont to do, the room was round now he noted, and made to take his usual spot except it was not there. The chairs were gone. The desks were gone save the teachers desk at the forefront of the room. Instead a large lecture hall was set up, rows of curving benches and lectern tops took the place of individual seats. 

It reminded him of pictures from Oxford except there were no posters or signs of safety on the stone. Most importantly he noted the figure lazing in the teachers chair was most certainly not Merrythought. Lazing was a lacking term for the way the figure reclined. It was almost obscene the way the body sloughed at it's post. The chair they were in was tilted back, legs up haphazardly and feet crossed over the wood of the desk. They held a newspaper open that obscured the face from view. Every now and again a page flipped but other than that, and the occasional time a hand reached out for a mug of something, no sound or movement came from their new teacher. The blackboard was empty as well, no idea as to what they were to do. Just silence, lazing about, and what he assumed was coffee. The alternatives were not befitting a teacher.

He watched as one by one students filtered in. Confusion was evident but they sorted themselves out well enough. Abraxas slid into his right. Impeccable as always, and as vain. The long blonde hair was always pristine and shiny, the skin smooth and soft. Over the summer the lanky and awkward limbs had settled. In their place was the beginnings of a man, graceful, handsome, and elegant. His soft grey eyes met Tom's for an instant and a gentle but sharp smile pulled tight over his pale lips. A beautiful man indeed. He was of course not considered an ice heart for nothing. Abraxas used and discarded like trash so for all his outsides were pretty they did not do justice to what laid beyond. Safe to say Tom was unimpressed by him at this juncture but that didn't stop Abraxas from being classy. Tom liked his things classy almost as he liked them shiny. 

Mulciber slid into the space to his left. Mulciber was, hard to predict. People didn't seem to notice him much of the time despite his tall and broad frame. He was mousy haired, dull eyed, and overall forgettable. That being said he took advantage of such things whenever he could to fuel his cruel streaks and pranks. He was the type to play tricks simply because he could. Very few saw him coming. He didn't bother to look at Tom but they way he leaned into him was familiar all the same. Tom could only guess the other was seeking him firm direction to keep.from impulsively doing something regrettable. Mulciber was like that, doing whatever on whimsy. 

Soon he was surrounded on the tiered side of the room by others of his house. The room was much the same, divided regardless that boundaries no longer existed. It was then he noticed that all the houses were accounted for and that a major portion of slytherins were missing as well as some others from other houses. Nott and Avery for example were not present about his person. Probably another class time which was very strange. It was bizarre, he thought. This would be the first class that had ever been all houses lumped together. It would be awkward with the way rivalries ran. It was no wonder Mulciber was itching to create chaos. Chances like this were few and far between. 

Eventually though everyone settled down but a tension hung heavy. The professor did not move. He continued to read. Five minutes in, ten minutes in, twent--. A yelp came from across the way and a Gryffindor. The girl stood red-faced. 

"How dare you!" she turned and slapped her year mate, a boy named Fallsten. The two had a bit of a strange dynamic already. He argued back but soon he too jumped. 

"How dare I? How dare you!" Then another student jumped and then another. The directions were all different and seemingly random. Except not a single Slytherin jumped, not that the rest noticed yet but that was just a matter of time. Accusations were already on the tips of their tongues for their year mates so it would be inevitable. Soon their eyes would notice his pocket of the class unaffected and the blame would eventually fall to them wouldn't it. At this point all in the room besides their own pocket of green and silver had been afflicted. The wronged all assumed one of their year mates were pranking them in front of the new professor. 

He, of course, didn't think so though. His eyes fell to the teacher and narrowed in suspicion. His instincts were rarely wrong and while they had not moved from their fancy, he would put his money on the teacher. The question then was why? The ruckus subtly continued, perfect executions done to rile and rouse. The professors and his hands had still not moved from the pages, flicking through them idly. It was kind of interesting? This strange game. No rather it was unseemly! Even Mulciber was excited. That always spoke of trouble. Said boy's usually lazy gaze was wide open and feral, his wand hand twitching at his side. There was a twitch in his jaw that spoke of a compulsion to play. Tom huffed and the other gleefully began sending stinging hexes of his own without descrimination or reason. At least he was subtle about it. Tom had always wanted a puppy, Madrigal Mulciber would have to do. 

Tom's magic swelled suddenly and blocked an incoming spell. It was an instinctive response but then he had to actively block another, and then another. This time from Abraxas' side. Those around him had not yet been targeted and seemed perturbed. Again he had to wonder why? He could think of reasons for leaving the alone. That would make sense if the professor was trying to pit them against not only each other but his own house? If that were so then why him? Unless that wasn't the case and this… his eyes widened in recognition. This was a test. Tom loved tests almost as much as he liked shiny things and classy things. 

Tom gave a meaningful look to his year mates, especially the distracted Madrigal. He made the subtle motion of protego just beneath the table tops. One by one his entourage spread the message to other snakes who shielded themselves accordingly. They soon caught onto the strange game being played when spells battered against them. It proved his theory about the test but it did not answer what the point was to all of this? This went on for another ten minutes and by that time the House of snakes was taking great fun in playing the part of villains. Some laughed and pointed while others looked guilty for the sake of looking so. Mulciber kept hexing others. It was fun for a few minutes but It was getting rather ridiculous. There was only so much chaos that he was willing to indulge. 

He waited for a little while longer and when the quarter mark of their class struck he decided to act. He raised his arm high and addressed the slouching figure at the desk. He noticed a score on the board that he had not noticed before. "Mad Mulci: 17". A moment later the seventeen became eighteen and so on. There was no response from the newspaper hidden figure. Tom didn't like being ignored. 

"Have you had your fun yet professor?" The room slowly fell silent as the students caught on. Mad Mulci 22 did not tick up again. Tom could feel eyes upon him but he refused to acknowledge onlookers and instead stared definitely at the figure behind the desk. Finally the newspaper lowered and in that moment all the boy could see was green. So very green eyes wrinkle in delight. They slid just shy of him to his chaotic companion and winked. Then they slid languidly back to his. A youthful face stared out at him, a slow smile like molasses pulled up the cheeks making him seem younger. Straight white teeth seemed sharper than they should be. The man had a button nose, sharp cheekbones, and messy messy black hair. 

There was a clunk sound as the chair reconnected fully with the ground and their teacher stood. He was garbed in robes the likes of which Tom had never seen but resembled supple black leather. _Dragonhide,_ his mind supplied. Tight and form fitted. There was an insignia in bright yellow on his chest that boasted a wand across a shield. Beside him Mulciber tensed and breathed a small, 'no way!', Abraxas was as still as the grave. He would have to ask of it later he decided. All he could process for now were the eyes pinning him to his seat. Those and the vast amount of sheer magic that was suddenly _everywhere._

 _'No,'_ he thought. _'Not suddenly at all. It has been here the whole time. Even when I walked in the door. I just didn't notice.'_ The idea alone had him reassessing himself. Wondering if he had done anything that would leave insult. He scoured the last hour and, and for the life of him he did not know. How could he not notice it sooner. He was adept at feeling out magic. It was just that subtle until… until now as it existed about the room in charged clouds. Like a beast waking from a long nap. 

_Or an over excited dog._ He regretted ever wanting a dog. It's attention centered on him. A singular and weighted focus. It felt as if the man, and the magic, reached through him and saw all he was and ever would be. It felt as if they knew every secret and found him for an instant in time worth noting. The charged magic filled him, wrapped about his own in some strange semblance of camaraderie. It was violating, and all encompassing, and so wonderful, and perfect, and suddenly it was gone. He was empty, hollow, and so very very small. He was alone. 

This man knew him, he decided. He wasn't sure how but he did and Tom wasn't sure how to feel about that. No one had ever looked at him like that before without hatred behind it. No one had completed him the way he felt in that instant. Who was this man?!

"Well one of you got it but only half a house point Mr. Riddle, as you told your friends about the test. Ruining my fun indeed. I admit it did not take you long and the rest well… for shame. Had I been an enemy you'd all be dead." The man tutted at them, soft voice lilting and deep. It commanded silence without being raised, brokered no arguments even when it was antagonizing others, and was amicable. There was no bite except there was.

He stretched all five foot five of him but it seemed as if he should be much taller. He started to move, slow and sure, back and forth. One might call it stalking if it wasn't so laid back. His pacing was steady and unhurried, posture relaxed and unassuming.Tom would not be fooled into thinking it was anything but calculated. This man was not nearly as unprepared as he seemed. _A Constant Vigilance._ Those piercing eyes scanned the room and each face therein. He wondered if the others felt as he had. He did not like the idea one bit. He didn't like sharing. 

The man raised a hand, gloved and elegant. Tom could see the glow of faint and fine rune weave. The forefinger and thumb came together and he snapped. A pressure in the room popped along with the sound and the board began to fill. The words were etched in atrocious scrawl and hovered over the surface but did not touch. 

CONSTANT VIGILANCE

"The first rule of defense is to be aware. Which you all failed… miserably. It was absolutely dismal. Dead every one of you. Except for Tom and Madrigal. Tom is perfect so I hate Tom. Madrigal just knows how to spot an opportunity. Consequently, had you been under Rosewell's tutelage he would have said you failed the first rule of espionage. Except Tom and Madrigal. Madrigal got caught though so… no points but I'll see you in detention this Saturday for sure Mulci." He smirked without any heat. The edges of the lips quirked in such a way that it seemed like they wanted to smile. His very being exuded a carefree sort of nature that soothed over the insults of his words. For all the world he was jesting. There were some awkward chuckles as if to prove such a point. Where there should be an insult, there was only acceptance. 

This was certainly like no other professor they ever had. He was dangerously charismatic. Professors did often call on Tom or praised him out right but never like this. Even lacking bite, the sarcasm was clear. He was unsure if the man meant his praise or not. He should feel insulted right? He should feel slighted? Instead he felt reluctantly proud. He felt himself sit a little straighter under the attention. He wanted more of it. He wanted all of it. 

The man tsked again and brought wandering eyes back to himself. The smirk evolved into an outright smile. The expression told of life but the undertone was something else. Something new. Tom wasn't sure what it was but it wasn't malicious but not quite true either. He liked the way it made the room tense. 

"That is to say as an auror I hate Tom for his vigilance. You see when I went to attack him, he reacted on instinct. It didn't matter what I threw at him, he would have sensed it and blocked it regardless. His magic was prepared. As an enemy, that is why I hate Tom. As a teacher I hate Tom because Tom cheated and thwarted my fun. Also he told his friends so the test became rather skewed on that end. Kudos though to Slytherin solidarity. The whole hyping up the test really gave me a smile also solidarity in war wins battles and all that. One point for Slytherin because of that but for Tom no full points beyond that.

"As a teacher I adore Tom. Tom did something extraordinary to modern wizards and witches, something that should be second nature to all of you by now if you had learned magic properly. Or at all really. He did something that should not need to be extraordinary and isn't extraordinary outside of magical britain. He identified and took action!" Another set of words under the first.The writing was atrocious. Tom had never seen such horrendous script. 

The four lines of messy scrawl read as follows:

_Identify you are in danger_  
Identify the danger  
Act to defend  
Act to defeat 

 

"These four things ensure survival. Tom did the first three and maybe, had I not been the professor, he would have done the fourth. He is certainly the most dangerous student in the classroom. With Mad Mulci not far behind. Which brings us to the real work." He halted by the black board his fist swung into it and a hollow thump echoed in the silence. The students were vibrating with tension as the air filled with the scent of nitrogen charged to strike. A storm was brewing and when the professor scanned the room it was with an intensity Tom had never seen in anyone. Gone was the fun. In its place was a titan of magic that seeped into every corner of the room. The force of which was so dense and electrifying that his own magic shrunk away from it on instinct. 

"You are all disappointing and I hate all of you. Even you Tom but for different reasons. Before I am through with all of you this year, you _will_ at the minimum be able to do all these steps. You _will_ understand the true nature of magic, and you _will_ learn to think. Fuck OWLs, Fuck NEWTS. This is about living and dying. Let's begin with an orientation into magic. Magic is in intent and focus. Magic doesn't kill people, people kill people. Light? Dark? Bah! Constructs of society. When you are dead you are dead. Doesn't matter how you got there. And those books you have?" A sharp toothed smile emerged from the smirk. Dangerous. 

"There will be a gap appearing on the work surfaces before you." A slot opened before Tom. He had a strange feeling this was and was not a new test.

"Drop them in." There was the hesitant sound of books shifting. Tom surreptitiously slipped his into his bag. No use in wasting money and if his friends around him followed suit it wasn't his way to interfere. He wasn't about to spoil the fun again. The sounds of distant thuds came from around the room signalling the compliance of his other classmates. Only when all the thuds tapered off did their instructor address them again. 

"Neat. Another half point to Tom. For defying an authority. You cannot be righteous or just without questioning authority. Shame blind compliance applies to your lackeys Tom. What does that get us, one whole point? Hmm… Minus a point to Tom because this is the only chance I will ever get to do so. As for the rest of you. Those books were filled with knowledge of creatures, dark mostly, that would have posed a grave threat to you. Had you kept them you may have learned how to defend against them in the convoluted ways that scholars like to write about. Which would kill you in practice. Or you know the actually important things. Things like their weaknesses and strengths. What a shame. That knowledge is gone now. Before the ravenclaws have a fit though I am sure it wouldn't have mattered very little in the end to the vast majority of you." The figure before them idled to his desk and sat himself upon it. 

He took his time to find a good and comfortable position. He then went back to watching them intently and with such nonchalance that it almost seemed like he was bored. Almost. The same could not be said of the forty students before him. While most of the faces in the room appeared confused, many more angry or openly hurt than before, their reactions only served to fuel whatever delight hid behind their teacher's calm demeanor. The man in question waved his left hand lazily and a tempus wrote itself with that atrocious scrawl in the air. 

"You! Slapped kid, Falton, Fenton, Fallsten or whatever. A vampire comes after you, what do you do." The timer started. The Gryffindor was caught off guard, his homely face scrunched into a focused look. 

"I guess step one of te--" A buzzer rang through the room. 

"You are dead. No guessing here kiddo. Before you complain I blind sided you, that is how the world works. That is what danger is. That hesitation was mistake one. In the world you either know or you don't, then and there. This is no fault to you now inside the safety of my classroom specifically, because up until now every one of you has only learned to looked and regurgitate information. Sometimes you wave wands and make things happen. Let me tell you what your OWLs want you to say. They want to hear about the ten steps in your fifth year course books plain as anything. They want okay demonstrations of wand waving, and mediocre magical comprehension. So Fallsten you were not wrong if you wanted to pass a test. Let me tell you the reality of things. Why many aurors never make it past the first few weeks, die young, and are disappointing. It is the reason why I am here now and it will be what the books, and ministry, is afraid to or cannot teach you.

"The reality is you don't get the time to take action on those ten steps. You see a vampire coming at you, it's too late for those. It's too late in general. What you should do if you are smart and of ministry regulated magic levels, is to apparate away and continue to do so. At least five jumps, three different countries, every two weeks, for the rest of your life. Vampires, once set on a target, will hunt that target to eternity, and unlike you they have plenty of time to plan. They are faster than you, just as smart or smarter than you, more experienced, without silly ideals of humanity to hold them back, and magically they can do whatever the hell they want. You see one coming at you, you get the hell out they way. 

"If you are foolish and stay, or overconfident and stay, there is only one surefire way to escape that situation alive and in our current world it won't be for long. You will only set 0.56 seconds to cast it and that is if you were sharp enough to identify a danger to your person. There is but one spell the wizard or witch needs in their arsenal for absolute survival against an active enemy. One spell that is guaranteed to destroy any being intent upon your demise. It is unblockable, undetectable, quick, and supposedly absolute. Can anyone but Tom Riddle, my perfect student, tell me what that is?" His legs kicked back and forth. His eyes roved from side to side. His hands laid upon his lap. For all the world it looked as if they were all having a conversation together. A polite not treasonous at all conversation. 

Never had Tom had a teacher so intent. Despite the strange way he talked down to them or up to them, he was right. Tom was fixated on the man before but now this. Surely he did not mean… 

"No? No one? Not one of you can tell me the one spell that will save your life everytime? Well shoot. You all have let me down, but that's okay because unlike my other class you all have a ringer. Tom! My darling boy. What is the one spell." His heart pounded under his rib cage when the spotlight fell on him. He had to be sure.

"Are we allowed to answer with illegal to use curses?" The professor just blinked at him. The man sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"If your life hypothetically was in dire peril, does it matter what you use or how you use it? What about a son or daughter? Mother or father? Siblings?" No. Thought Tom in response. He would do whatever he needed to of it meant he survived another day, bedamned the consequences. 

"Then it is Avada Kedavra professor. The killing curse " The room was a graveyard. Silence stretched onwards of forever in every face. Then it was broken in a flurry of movement. Theor professor was a whirlwind of motion and magic. The names of beasts of all types erupted about the room. Danger levels floated next to realistic pictures as if they had been snapshot memories. 

"Excellent! Perfect! A whole point for saying the actual spell and not it's moniker as well. That is absolutely right. All these beasts and more can be trounced with but one spell. The perfect offense to anything coming at you with a soul is this. In life you will learn those ten steps to kill a vampire won't save you. The scholars writing that nonsense never fought one and never will. They prefer to be lauded on their intellectual factoids than real life experience. So, you would all be dead before you even get to step one if you followed such drivel. That is reality. That being said those same scholars saved you if you read enough because they clearly list the weaknesses, strengths, and the environmental effects vampires have on the world around them. Namely speaking, if the night is devoid of crickets, birds, or any noise at all save your heartbeat it is because a monster is prowling. Something so fearsome even unintelligent bugs know to hide.

"If you cannot escape such a situation, if you have no other conceivable option but to fight. There is but one spell you need to learn. Avada Kedavra." He paced before them, his eyes were bright and his posture dignified. His nose wrinkled a little when he grinned, twitched when he frowned. His face was an ever changing map of expressions. The gestures he made were done with precision and flair. 

"Some of you look scandalized, as well you should being good, law abiding citizens. It is unnecessary to think for yourselves when such dangers are so far from your home, in theory. It is, however, harder to acknowledge truth and most of you never will. The danger is always at your doorstep, far closer than you can imagine. You have all succumbed to it already in some form or another. All your young lives you have been told horror stories of dark magic, how wrong it is to use it, the consequences… all your young and untested lives you have read how foul certain magics are. You have learned from your parents and they from theirs that the boogeyman is real, and it is dark magic." The beasts disappeared, the room darkened and above them a great tree of magic sprouted. Curls of translucent and radiant tendrils opened into names. Currents opened and unveiled the tree as a universe of magic. It was resplendent. It was unfathomably vast. Magics were named that Tom could not imagine existing. Yet there they were.

Blood magic, mind magic, transfiguration magic, and onward spread out in the branches of this great and impossible thing. Until there was a great spread of knowledge before them. It was the most beautiful thing Tom had ever seen. Then one by one spells, branches of magic, forgotten knowledge were struck with a red line. Stars winking out of existence, whole galaxies dispersed and fragmented. Until all that was left was one lone branch and galaxy, their current curriculum of courses. He felt sickness coil low in his gut. He was revolted at the idea of such an occurrence. 

"But all of that, is just a convenient way of blinding you to the realities of your world. It is a way to make you manageable, and easy to deal with should you step out of line. The ministry would like to remind you law abiding citizens that any magics it cannot monitor, and address swiftly, are hereby banned magics. For your safety of course. Shame then if you have a family magic that fits into that category and runs in your very bones. Soul healers, death speakers, and so on." The man nodded sagely and resolutely. The laugh he followed it with was sweet but mocking. He continued his roaming. He was a storm, a star in a bright space. 

"It would also like to remind you that any magic banned is considered much too dangerous, or complicated, for the average witch and wizard to handle so don't try it. In fact the books are banned, no need for those. We will also just put it into a category that we will call dark magic that way you don't need to even think about it. Taboo am I right. The ministry would also like to remind you that it decides what is and is not dark magic. It is okay though because you won't know the difference anyways right? As law abiding citizens you have never read about these magics so… what difference does it make. It would also like to remind you that wands are mandatory and only obtainable at age eleven, because this world is perfectly safe and you won't ever be without it. Also wandless casting is hard right? So why bother. Why would you need to do that anyways. The world is safe and perfect, so surely that is much too complicated and should be feared. Besides why would children need to wield magic? It's not like they would need to know such things. By the way wandless casting becomes increasingly difficult to learn after the ages of thirteen… besides how else will we keep you controlled should you break the law if you could just cast wandlessly. We just need to snap your wand and that's that, why make it harder on us to control you. Why make so we cannot track you easily? What would happen if you figured out that we _fear_ you. That won't possibly happen though because you are good, law abiding citizens. You would never question our laws. Safe and sound, am I right?" 

Tom had never felt so sick in his life. The words rotated in his mind, the logic behind them. He had already suspected the wizarding world was inept. To hear another say it, one that felt as strong as this man, made it more real. It gave weight to his revelations and cemented them. He was glad he had been forced to rely on magic without a wand at an early age. One of the only benefits of a rough childhood. 

The room's lighting returned to normal but the feelings within it did not. To hear such words, such slander of their government was heavy. The Gryffindors wanted to say something, anything, but even they were speechless as to what. All else in their environment seemed the same as when they came in. All except the board which now had the word 'MAGIC' on it. The words 'WILL' were to one side below it and 'INTENT'' to the other. 

"I see many concerned faces. I get it. Stick with me though I promise it will all come together. What I am showing you is that Dark magic and Light magic are only names. Regardless of how insulted I am that my government fears me enough to try and limit me. That is would try to make me vulnerable when the world is filled with perils is a crime onto itself. Beyond that you should all understand that it is the ministry that decides what is called what, light or dark, in magical Britain. The ministry is comprised of people. It is not based on the nature of what magic is itself. Light and dark, good and evil. Magic doesn't understand those things. The ministry is people and the parameters of magic is created by people. The labels upon magic are nothing but constructs of society that are ephemeral at best. 

"Tomorrow, the spells you know and commonly use might be considered dark. For all we know in ten years the Patronus Charm may be outlawed because of the price it requires to use. The truth is that in this world there is only one type of magic and it's just magic. Beyond that is people. You and I. Why is this important to understand?

"To defend yourself properly against magic you need to understand what it is. If you misunderstand it then you will not be able to properly fight or defend with it. To perfect the arts of casting defensively and offensively the first thing and perhaps the only thing to keep true is that magic, as a whole is just magic. Well and understand what magic demands of you. Magic it turns out will never do something for nothing. There is always an exchange. It just depends on what it needs for that action, what price is deemed appropriate and what components are necessary. Potions is the easiest way to understand this law of magic. 

"You see, casting Protego or Bombarda have different shall we say 'currencies,' and trade routes than casting a Patronus. At their core they are all just magic but the steps needed are different. The currency in this case could be seen as goblin gold compared to elven gold. So very different yeah? Same with what magic wants. The trade routes can be seen as the wand work or the shape of the spell imagined. The latter if you want to wandlessly cast it without having to powerhouse your way through.

"If we rewind to ancient times when our ancestors were around. The way magic was done was very different. There were runic circles that needed to be made. There were long incantations. There were no wands, staves maybe focus crystals, ect. All of that was to contact magic or to forge a trade route to magic in order to tell it what we wanted it to do, and then make a deal to have that happen. We taught it the shape it needed to appear so that our mortal minds could understand, and how much we needed to pay for it to do the thing we wanted it to do. It was very precise and very taxing. Also the reason why Goblin magic and ours is so different. The trade routes and currencies they understand are not the same ones we do. 

"So what changed? Well we did. We decided that we needed a better way to make this exchange with magic. We discovered little by little how to trim down the road to get there. We found more efficient ways to describe to magic what we wanted to happen and how. We also discovered better ways to pay prices to magic for what we needed done. Upside, casting is so much simpler now. It requires only will, intent, and a magical core. Downside, we can be easily misunderstood by magic if we don't understand it, our spells do not come out as pure, and also we may cut corners and miss the criteria magic needs in order to work. When this happen magic finds a way to get what it needs, at a grave cost, or it doesn't work at all. Sound familiar? Ever had a spell backfire? Struggling with a pesky charm? These things are common. 

"This is also why not knowing how to contact magic properly because said knowledge of the 'trade route' was destroyed, or banned, or is hidden, or you were lazy and didn't take the time to learn it, is an atrocity. It is also why doing magic correctly is important. Again magic is just magic. It is absolute and perfect, and neutral. The fault lies in us. When magic doesn't do what we want, it is because we are the issue. Our trade route is flawed or our currency is wrong. Many ‘dark magicks’ of our age have this problem. The information on the true way to cast certain spells or conduct rituals has been lost or twisted. It is the leading cause of what we know today as dark corruption. It is entirely avoidable unless the true currency of that spell is specific to sanity sacrificed and so on. If you want to be truly great at casting and at identifying magic in all its forms, you must know how it works and what it demands. You need to understand it and how to make that exchange with it. It's why we have classes to learn spells, and this one is no different in that regard.

"So why is this important and what does this have to with me? Well that is a great question. This is defense! Not history or magical theory right?! Too right you are! But… you will also die when faced with actual threats if that is your mindset. I can't help you survive if you are that much of a dunderhead. Honestly I don't expect anything grand out of any of you. Except Tom, I will be gravely disappointed should he hold back this year. So let's begin in earnest now that we covered the introduction to real magic. Let's start with the minimum you need to know in order to survive. Remember those extraordinary things Tom completed?" Under the triad of Magic, will, and intent on the board followed: __

 _Identify you are in danger_  
Identify the danger  
Act to defend  
Act to defeat  
  
By this point the classroom was in a state of… something. The responses were vastly different. Tom could hear the whispered outrages from those who supported the ministry wholeheartedly. Their professor was a dark sympathizer, must not know what he is doing, is a chump. Their professor was speaking borderline treason if not that. Of course there would be a good many that would react badly. The strange thing was that it was only the muggleborns, and a spattering of half-bloods that seemed riled. Those from wizarding families looked rather pale and shocked.  
Tom however, was delighted. For the first time he felt as if a professor understood him. He felt empowered. He felt eager to know what this man was capable of. He wanted to be a good student for once instead of just pretending to be good. He would not gravely disappoint the man so similar in mindset to himself. There was a 'snap' and all the words and phrases disappeared before new ones took their place. 

_DANGER IS WHAT WE PERCEIVE IT TO BE_

Attention came again to the front of the class where the man had again placed himself on top of his desk. 

"Those were your basic tenants for Defense against all arts, and or creatures. Hope you wrote em down. The first step relies heavily on your innate instincts. Sensing when you are in danger is the most critical thing one needs to learn in life. Some people are never able to learn it but we can try. So what constitutes as danger. Is it creatures? Is it spells? Is it the environment? Each and every person here has some vague idea of what is dangerous. All of them are different. 

"Ladies, ever avoided a dark hallway? An invitation by a stranger? Quidditch players, ever notice a bludger that dogs only you? What about the creatures you studied up until now? Vampires, werewolves, all of those are great examples of a danger. For most of you, creatures are the least of your worries. Most of you will lead unremarkable lives. The danger you will most encounter, the greatest threat you will ever face, is closer than you think. Ladies, a wizard corners you away from your friends. It is nearing curfew and you wanted to return that book just before you ran out of time. Said wizard is a person you know to be obsessed with you." 

There was a span of silence, an understanding filled the eyes of many witches in attendance. Their whispers muted and they wrung their hands in their laps. Some nodded unconsciously as their hair stood on end. 

"I don't need to tell you that you need to get away, but I also don't need to tell you that your instincts should have warned earlier to your unwanted pursuer. You should have never gotten cornered in the first place. So now you know you are in danger and know what it is that is threatening you. So what are you going to do about it? You don't have alot of time, a split second decision makes the difference between getting back self and whole, or the alternative. A silencio from you aggressor will render the chance of aid nonexistent. Chances are good they are physically stronger than you, if not hey fuck them up! Realistically, they will be more dangerous than you know because they lack remorse. You will fight. I don't need to tell you that, you fight like hell is in your veins. With everything you are. Tooth and nail. You make them regret it. 

" You do have a chance though, remember that split second decision? There are a thousand types of spells meant to subdue, repress, and strip our means to retaliate. There are just as many to combat those spells. This is where point three and four come in. Act to defend and also defeat. On the field of battle it's to kill. In this case giving away your wand movements spells disaster, and vocalizing them makes defense against your countermeasures easy. In order to get away unscathed your aggressor cannot know you are going to strike, or you lose your advantage. The split second decision is gone. So what do you do? You can't reach for your wand? That may provoke them sooner..." The professor did not go further. There is a solemn silence as the message sinks in. The girls realize the problem, their pale countenances give it away. Green eyes roves over those before him and he smiles. 

"It could happen just as easily to the boys. I know when I was young, I was such a small and easy target. I was fresh from the muggle world without any forewarning of the magical world. I was also very pretty for a half-blood, according to my peers. Do you get it? Dandelion! What is the biggest threat you will face?" A Hufflepuff girl with soft pigtails startled. Her ink spilled across the desk. She looked about briefly before she meekly responded. 

"P-People? P-p-professor?" Her face was flushed and only got redder when their teacher merely arched a thin eyebrow. Tom noticed he had freckles which was irrelevant. 

"Is that a question or your answer?" He asked with an unnerving tilt of his head. Dandelion Montesque sat straighter her chin lifted.

"An answer. The answer is people!" She nearly yelled it. The man nodded to her and smiled openly. She sunk down in relief but her brown eyes were proud and her friends gave her encouraging pats to her shoulders. 

"Correct! A point to Dandelion. People are the most common and prolific danger you will face in life, and unfortunately they are the most difficult to dispatch. The greatest threat to you is not a Vampire, it is the wizard or witch next to you. Of course we can't go through life fearing one another. We can sharpen our instincts, hone our magic to detect latent spells, and be aware of how to handle those situations. True defense starts with us, and preparation. It isn't about learning how to get rid of Bogart's. Chump change, peanuts to wizards and witches. 

"That is why your course books are obsolete this year and kind of not. People do not operate by the book. They have various latent talents and spells in their repertoire, and are generally unpredictable. People are the reason that the international auror association has taken to placing one of its agents in each magical school to ensure that the _international_ standards of magic are upheld. Any country signed into the International Confederation of Magic are _encouraged_ to comply to the fullest." Their instructor stopped and tapped at the badge of his robes. He grinned as pallor gripped the faces of families who had not yet realized the badge was there. 

"To be clear, I am not here to enforce Ministry law but rather international standards. As such, some of you can rest easy. So long as your families are not out of line on an international scale, I could care less. That being said you will still be responsible for your OWLs, because of course your are. You are all big boys and girls so I expect you will do fine. If not then I don’t know how you got this far. I am not here to teach you how to dispatch a hoard of Inferi. Though fiendfyre works nicely I hear. I will, begrudgingly, teach you the bare minimum for your ministry exams on Thursday Double days which will include all of my fifth year students. I will not subject myself to the mind numbing insanity that this country believes to be useful. Do pay attention, I won't go over material twice. If you fail it's not because I missed a lecture. So without further ado, we start with the first step to survival. Which is fitness, the physical kind. We will be having running trials regularly from now until spring by the lake. Starting today.” There was a moment of silence before worried titters and complaints rent the air. Their professor just sat, a pinky plugging his ear from the sound and looking very unimpressed. 

“But Professor?” The nasally voice of Amaryllis Parkinson was unmistakable. She had a penchant for being egotistical. It was a trait that was not at all uncommon for those of pureblood status in Slytherin but she was an exception. Vanity was a trait Tom was proud to have. His time spent on his looks was sacred. Amaryllis held no grace of face or form, yet she held herself to a lofty standard of beauty. She took every opportunity to lash out on any woman fairer than she, which was many. She also had a penchant for trying to crowd him when she obviously was not wanted. In short, if Abraxas’ outsides didn’t match his ugly insides, Parkinson’s did but pretended they didn’t. With the absence of many of a fourth of his house Tom has hoped she would not be among the masses fanning out behind him. Apparently he was wrong. She was directly behind him flanked by Velma Tidewell, and Phantasia Bellesaint. Minor purebloods with no particular talents except to agree with whatever Parkinson said.

“Yes Amaryllis? You look very concerned my darling lady.” Tom never hated her, but now he did. He would have hexed her, but a prod from Madrigal had him glance at a hand signal under the desk. He sighed but it was with a fondness he did not remember having. Dogs were the best. 

‘Mad Mulci: 22/1’ appeared on the board. An odor wafted from Amaryllis that would have affected he and Abraxas as well if not for the forewarning. The girl did not seem to notice, even when those around her made to be as far from her as possible. Going so far as to nearly sit on their neighbors despite years of rigorous training in manners. 

“It's just that we were not aware that we would be running. Surely the ladies are ill prepared for such sport. Is it possible t--”

“Nope.” Their professor popped the ‘P’. It would have been annoying if not for the sheer joy that lit up the man’s eyes. He blinked a couple of times and then looked over the class carefully. 

“You are a witch aren’t you Mrs. Parkinson?” The man chuckled but it was hardly kind. 

“Are you so incapable of transfiguration that you can’t alter your clothes at will? Well then, sucks to be you. You did not come prepared and that is not my problem. You will run laps, high heels or no. Makeup or no. Dresses or no. I don’t discriminate and I will hold you ladies in as high a regard as I do the gentleman. In fact, maybe higher… or I did until just now.” He shook his head and took a deep and calm breath.

“In the real world, should you not lead a boring existence. You will need to be physically capable of dodging, weaving, and generally outpacing what can chase you. Being able to prepare yourselves at a moments notice is mandatory for passing my class. I suggest those of you who cannot do elementary transfigurative clothing adjustments, learn quickly. How else will you... Oh I see the confusion. I said running trials didn’t I? I meant meeting Fluffy. He likes to run you see, and he likes to chase. Still, not my problem you didn’t bring proper clothes. Next time, come prepared. Anyone else have boring questions? By the way, Madrigal? Two Saturdays though I appreciate the things you do that liven up my classroom. Still a detention but I appreciate it. Tom, a point for preparedness. Madrigal, a point for looking out for your friend.” He strode over to the wall. He ran a gloved hand down the stone. Power sang through the room. It rose like a great wave and once again his own magic made to hide. It never got the chance as the force passed through him. Tendrils of it passed along his own and sent charges of something through his being. His breath stuttered, his heart hammered, his vision hyper focused on the professor as the wall surged around the spaces between him and the other. Hogwarts’ stone wall, shifted in unison to open out to the grounds of Hogwarts. The wave passed but small bits of it were clutched in his own, his magic grasping at it greedily and attempting to keep it. Slowly, like bits of sand, it too passed from him. He felt bereft. He felt empty.

Really?! Who was this man?! 

“Up you sorry louts! Time to play! Oh, I almost forgot. Hadrian J. Peverell and from this day forward I will be your professor. You are welcome. Welcome also to your first year of International Magical Defense. Now, let’s go meet fluffy. He will be on your OWLS so do pay attention." Tom was in love. No one person had been this… this! This. Yes, he hated physical exertion but he could not deny the want to see what came next. He was excited and eager, a feeling he had not experienced since his first year. Before he had been disillusioned by prejudices and ineptitude of his peers and some of his professors. The world was alive again, and it was magical! 

He left his outer robe on the seat of his lectern and helped Madrigal and Abraxas transfigure their clothes to something lighter and easier to move in. He almost skipped out, almost. He had some composure but from the way Madrigal and Abraxas shifted next to him, it was obvious he was doing poorly in keeping his enthusiasm hidden. Their professor, Hadrian, escorted them all out into the sunshine. He had them all line up along a pattern of four across. Tom stretched lightly, unwilling to make some idiotic mistake like tripping. Running always left him in pain, cramps and sore muscles, that sort, so he was limbering up in the hopes it wouldn’t be so bad later. He hadn’t had to run for awhile, not since before he hung Billy’s rabbit from the rafters. Years ago. Still, he would not make a fool of himself the first day. 

He made a point of looking about and gauging what he perceived as his new competition. Many of the ladies seemed to be hesitant and the guys shed their tops. Some of them were more muscular than Tom could hope to ever be. Others were thin and sickly. He assessed his own form, still semi lanky with a couple years yet to go before that would fade completely. He hadn’t put much thought into it before, why work when one had magic but now. His dark eyes rose to Hadrian, lithe and lean. There was no denying that the man was fit. Like the man said, fitness was a must in survival. If there was anything Tom valued more than that, he could not remember it. The sun was high, and while it was relatively cool it would not stay that way. 

There was that same building pressure and release that he was beginning to recognize as Hadrian’s spell releases. Tom turned, curious, and felt the blood drain from his face. Standing two and a half stories, and bearing three massive black heads, was a Cerberus. It looked horrifying with its three drooling maws, and its three sets of hellfire eyes. It was accompanied by the heat from three sets of breath, reeking each of flesh. Tom had read about these beasts but actually seeing one. He felt a wave of sick fear twist in him. He tapped Madrigal and Abraxas on the shoulder, they too turned. They looked at it, and then as a unit they looked back at one another, and back to Tom. Then to the beast. Then all three looked to Hadrian who was… cooing at it lovingly. Those damnable eyes slipped to Tom and he held a finger to his lips. 

Don’t spoil the fun. 

“Your goal is to run the distance of two miles, roughly ten laps around the lake. I will be timing each of you. Oh! For those of you who haven’t noticed, and shame on you. This is fluffy, you will be giving him his much needed exercise. You begin.. now.” The ground trembled as Fluffy’s tails smashed the ground in its first step forward. One by one the students turned their heads. Tom, Madrigal, and Abraxas were already off, not needing to feel or hear step two to know they should have been gone before the signal of ‘go’ even began. A quick obfuscation charm and the three made sure to run as if the hounds of hell were on their heels. In this case one literally was. One only needed to be faster than the person behind them ideally. There were a lot of people behind them.

Something Hadrian had said stuck with Tom however. He pulled the other two off the path of the lake and toward the Quidditch pitch. From there they kept running. As for the rest, by the time class ended, several students had to be ‘saved’ from the vicious maw of a Cerberus. They all survived but some better than others. The Ravenclaws house seemed to fare the best, with the fewest ‘rescues’. They used their booksmarts to outwit and keep out of the sight of three heads, confusing it with flashing light charms or conjured chasable animals. The Slytherin portion fared second best because they tripped up the Hufflepuffs. The Hufflepuffs were in third save for Fredrick Diggory who was just behind the snake trio, and Gryiffindor did poorly as the muscle heads tried to fight Fluffy. Some failed because of ‘saving’ tripped hufflepuffs. They ended up covered in dog saliva and minor burns, all healed, for their efforts. 

None of it mattered because while the snake trio didn’t come in first. They were awarded the most ‘Survival points’ for quick action and cunning. By the end of the class they were exhausted. Tom had never wanted to sit more in his life than then. He never wanted to see the Quidditch pitch again. He couldn’t help but perk up as a cheery voice echoed from the front desk.

“Nice! Fluffy looks like he lost a pound or two. Ease up everyone or he will be able to catch you. Ravenclaw, very nice. Rosewell would be proud. Quick thinking and kudos Versei for that light refraction. I think you might pass after all. Thompson, Fleamont… dears. Cerberi are immune to stupify. Bravery without wit is just plain suicide so, negative survival points and ten inches on Cerberi and their weaknesses and resistances, but it was kind of cool. Still dead though. You still failed. Diggory! Oh man Diggory. You, I did not see that coming. I mean I should have. Decent time and you managed to keep five others on par. Three of ten survival points on that. Here have some water, all of you.” A conjured set of mugs passed before six hufflepuffs who, for better or worse, looked stunned and then puffed up with pride. They drank eagerly. 

“Good job. Never let it be underestimated the value of having a great leader and trust. Amaryllis… darling. You have to step it up! You didn’t get twenty feet girl! It wasn’t your shoes either. You froze, freezing is death honey. Then you attempted to hide in a bush, nearby, down wind, with a Body Odor hex on you. Negative survival points and eight inches on how keen a Cerberus’ senses are and another on how to recognize when you have been hexed. It seems harsh but you are an heiress. The likelihood you will be cursed to death is way higher than the usual person. Get it together! Now let’s see… Tom, Madrigal, and... “ Eyes flit up from the floating assessment parchment before their professor. He paused and then a mischievous grin broke across his face. 

“Abraxas Malfoy. Never thought a Malfoy capable of running so fast. Pleasant surprise, I hope to see more of them from you. Tom! You and your mates are well in tune, fast, resourceful, and well what did I expect with you at their back… five out of ten survival points. Highest yet, I’d give you more but I can’t be soft on you either. Your stamina is shite but we can work on that. Here take it you earned a reward. Every class one of you will come out on top. Good luck taking Demi from Tom.” Before the three Slytherin’s mugs like Diggory’s appeared. It was the best beverage he could remember tasting. Cold, pure, water. Tom however got one more thing, a small shiny snake slithered into existence. This must be Demi. It wound its way around Tom’s wrist and settled there eagerly. It felt like Hadrian, and even the eyes were green. 

“That bracelet will protect you from all sorts of nasty spells. Also for those of you who ask properly it can aid you in recounting past events or in storing spells of your own. If it transfers hands, it will take the mark of your house and settle upon your person. Enchanted it myself so its the real deal. At the end of the year one of you will have it for keeps based on the number of survival points you have. Oh yeah, I forgot. Ten survival points equal a house point. You can hoard them or cash them in. I don’t care. What you do with them is your business. I don’t give those out easy as you all should have caught onto. I am not Albus. I don’t coddle.” The professor took back to lounging in his chair and opened up a moving memory of their run. Tom rubbed a hand over the bracelet. It hissed at him in contentment and in that moment he swore he would not lose it to anyone. It was his, and he would do all he could to keep it that way. He would be the one with it at the end of this year. His attention only lasted so long however, as Hadrian was addressing them again. 

“Let’s discuss what we did right today and what we did wrong. Evading a Cerberus for a set distance. What was smart, ruthless, or tactful? It may seem harsh but knowing our mistakes lets us improve. To be fair and just, Tom? Let’s start with you. If you tell me not using Avada Kadavra was your mistake I’ll consider it cheating. I will also say your weren’t wrong but if any of you kill my dog, I will be very cross with you. Fluffy is a sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or the rights therein. I do not make money off any fanfictions I write and nor do I ask for it. I simply build a thing using another thing and put it out there. Enjoy and give J.K. Rowling a hug. She is amazing.


End file.
